The clocks went back an hour last night.
But rather than having an hour's more shut-eye, I just had an extra hour
listening to nice-next-door's baby crying. I don't mind babies crying in the
night; I find it rather sweet really. But after a while I found myself
wondering where the baby came from... they didn't have a baby last time I
looked, and she never looked pregnant when I saw her the other day. I gave the matter
some thought, and I have formed a theory that (just maybe) gestational duration is shortened by the amount of
noise you make when creating the baby.
Loads of screaming and "oh
yes - oh yes... uh uh uh oh big boy!!!" followed by a few
over-dramatic grunts and groans whilst doing "it", and the baby arrives in less than a week rather than in
nine months?
If so that might explain a lot.
Perhaps it is a sign of the times that
for the last twenty years I've heard many people "doing the dirty deed" in the bedroom next to mine, and over
the years the volume has definitely increased.
I got up at 5.15 am (what my body felt was 6.15am) and over a
bit of toast I watched an episode of Dad's Army. Mind you it wasn't any old
toast; it was the last toast as there was no more bread in the house. I wondered
about not scoffing it, but then I thought that I would be safely at work by
the time "er indoors TM" emerged from her pit and
found out, and she would have calmed down by the time I came home. So I scoffed
it.
I set off to work in the rain. The
drizzle persisted for much of the day; as I've said before I don't mind working
at the weekends when it is wet outside.
As I drove to work there was some utter
drivel on the radio about the general public's fascination with cars. I must
admit it is a fascination I don't share. I quite like my car for the simple
reason that it is *my* car, but I
have no interest in other cars.
The drivel about cars finished, and the
farmer's news came on. I turned the radio off and squalled along to my choice
of music on the MP3 player instead until I got to Aylesford.
Aylesford McDonalds (like all McDonalds) does a good
McBreakfast, so I had a sausage and egg McMuffin, McHash McBrown and McCoffee
whilst I watched the sunrise. It was a rather spectacular sunrise this morning.
As I watched the sunrise, friends were commenting (somewhat unfavourably) on McDonalds.
People do that a lot; generally, the
less experience anyone has of the franchise, the more vocal they are against it.
I like McDonalds as they do larger portions of food than most other places, served
far faster and far cheaper. A poncey
posh restaurant is fine if you have ages to sit around waiting and putting on
airs and graces. Personally my few remaining years are too precious to waste on
watching the pretentious pretending to be something they are not.
I got to work and leapt into action. The
only problem with working on Sunday morning is that being on my own I have to
actually do work. I can't hide behind everyone else's efforts. But having to
work makes the time pass.
I came home, and "er indoors TM"
boiled up a rather good bit of dinner then went off bowling. I ironed shirts;
using the new cover on the ironing board. Having a new cover for my ironing
board was something of a highlight of the day.
And then Fudge was sick. Twice…
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